#I got to the part in Paris when zolf lost his other leg when I first started using a wheelchair daily and GOD those episodes man

[rustyelias]

Chat I am experiencing many emotions about rqg right now /vpos

[shy-magpie]

RQG 157

these things get long and are by definition one spoiler after another, so live blog under the cut

pre episode nonsense:

My hopes for this episode are mostly just the obvious: For Zolf to pull out of his spiral; for Azu to talk to someone about how she's doing; for Hamid to find his footing with the Kobolds (loving that they are devoting a proper arc to using unearned privilege/power rather than pretending it doesn't exist); more Cel lore; a Wug; and for someone to shake answers out of the Brorb. Not sure Alex is going to let us get to know the kids individually which makes sense as juggling 7 new NPCs would seriously cut into everyone else's screen time. I think we will get more of Skraak & Hamid working through their issues, and Skraak's helping the kids through recovery. If we are very lucky maybe Zolf & Skraak will talk rather than just have Zolf resent the Kobolds for putting Hamid in a place to fall into old habits. Okay lets hit play!

Episode live blogging:

Intros are quick: Zolf sounds low, Ben sounds higher energy than he was.

Oh the Brorb drawings come better when the other half is distracted but not thinking about the real topic.

Krakens are through out the globe, unknown numbers, not true instances of Shoin, network is down.

Cel and I both react to having Shoin be the one to come closest to a truly non physical form.*

Krakens are cloned brains in robot bodies. Specifically said Daleks not Jurassic Park.

Shoin thinks he sent a ransom note using the Kraken as a threat against the world.

Does not handle it well when Zolf hones in on that no one knows who he is, much less trembles at his name.**

Hamid follows Zolf's lead and twists it towards boasting about beating the Infection. The talking half doesn't seem to know how he did it as clearly as the drawing bit. Unfortunately its strictly surgical which would be hard to reproduce at scale even before you consider the side effects.

Quick huddle with the rest of the team:

Cel always wanted to go to London?

Zolf wants to ask more about how the infection works so they could prevent infection. Wilde thinks he is suggesting using Shoin's solution, I get Alex has to catch people up but I don't like Wilde being a paragraph behind me or underestimating Zolf.

Bryn wants to review the diary. Alex confirms the diary says he had a possible  way to "end it" as a whole.

They go back and Cel feigns being extremely impressed that Shoin might have a way to stop the infection. I think having time to regroup cut him off from his memory of the infection again. Alex spells out Shoin loses coherence whenever they bring up the infection/the time period around when he was infected.

Heal check time. Zolf crit fails. Azu got a 29 and can see where his theory was better than his surgery. It may be an aphasia (issues to with communication. can't get to certain words, some can't be spoken even if he understands the concept; others he can't understand if he hears them even if he uses the word/concept himself. Brain trauma, memory problems more severe the more recent you get, sounds like unable to store short term memory properly so anything longer ago than a week but after surgery likely lost.)

Cel switches to the simulacrum. He verbally dismisses it as a waste of time. His hand keeps drawing based on the previous question re:stopping the infection.

Alex calls for a sense motive. Zolf & Azu see the latest drawing is a landscape using technical notation. Its a barren mine. Yes! it's the entrance to Svalbard. Cel can see its a circuit. Alex makes us/Lydia wait until after he's done with the simulacrum stuff.

Shoin thinks using humans as your base design to improve from is the wrong approach, gives some credit to Francois Henri for taking a different approach.

The circuit maybe to transmit something, it needs an organic component. Cel couldn't roll much better then that so they probably need to kick it towards the Harlequins to set a team on.

Shoin is moaning about paying the bills. Took on the contract to provide Simulacrum fluidics to Damascus for the money.

Drawings change shape get less technical and focus on the cavern entrance. Ben catches it sounds yonic, Alex was trying to not go there but did he really think you could go from cave imagery to seed imagry without stopping there?

Hamid tries to get more on how he caught the infection.

Bryn and Alex spell out that to get answers you ask a real question he won't answer verbally but will answer with his hand, with a decoy to keep the talking him distracted while the hand answers.

Decoy question is about Harrison Campell.

Concept drawing of a person, overwhelmed by an image of a huge figure with lines going from the small to the large? Is he suggesting they plant someone they prepare to be infected, and have them infect it back?

Proofs? Minor changes between the proofs and published version of early Campbell books.

Another review session upstairs. Hamid's red string wall got cited as being useful! Cult of Hades/Wellington may have been the one to hire Shoin to make parts for Damascus. Zolf and Hamid talk briefly, about work and as dry "stick to the subject" as possible but they are talking productively.

Oh Ben finally gets in that the interrogation is hard on Zolf's knees because he has to keep his legs out of the cell. He snaps a little at Cel when they comment on cell vs Cel. Carter suggests "naughty box" which nicely derails that point of tension. Cel refers to Shoin as being more pleasant to talk to than Carter. Not sure if that undermines the tiny Cel/Carter ship or fuels it with tension.

Cel asks who hired Shoin to make Sim parts. He can answer directly. Well directly for him, it seems to be mostly justifying stealing Tesla's work on the basis that Tesla wasn't going to implement his theory. Hamid snipes him with a shot praising Edison to get him back on topic. Shoin says Edison was being backed by a big investor. Is it to much to hope this is Alex finally consolidating the factions? If Hades is Edison's investor (leaving Edison & co as effectively their minions, rather than a faction of their own) and the factory owners we can cut down on sides considerably.

He goes on about how he spied on Henri, religion as money maker. Shoin was directly approached by Hades lot. Shoin made sure his bits won't work since he didn't want competition. Wellington was his contact with Hades. Wellington always had a pair of cloaked figures.  Vinegar + squizard = funny? Could be useful.

Do not follow what is going on with the hand.

Shoin is still unstuck in time and thinks he is going to connect them. Cel unplugs the speaker on his villain speech. Cel induces a dream state by powering him down

~break~

Cel suggests  painlessly killing him. Zolf seconds the idea because its immoral to keep him like that.   Hamid points out the longer the keep him around the more likely it is for someone to be infected. Wilde rules they should kill and seal it off.

Cel & Zolf have an argument about having the Kobolds handle the remains. Cel calls Zolf out on his inconstant stance on whether the Kobolds can be infected because if he doesn't believe that then he is risking them.

Wilde is moving on? Cel suggests letting the Brorb die, putting it in a bag of holding, keeping the bag in the anti magic field.

They can't just call Einstein because using unofficial channels is bad when irregular behavior is a sign of infection(?)

Alex's unhealthy attitudes about productivity are called out when he refers to the time Wilde spends thinking/planning before getting their transport arranged as "working" (with the inverted commas) rather than considering it part of the work.

They work out possible paths if teleporting is off the table.

And the boys are snapping at each other again. Zolf, you can't flip out every time you are reminded that Hamid doesn't have the experience or expertise of a seasoned sailor. Yeah you did leave the team without your skills and maybe the kid was a bit green for a field promotion; but you know what? He did a fine job, and the other choices were Sasha, who wouldn't lead, and Bertie, who shouldn't. Just because stepping down was the right thing to do, doesn't mean you get to lose it when you are confronted with the mere allusion to the idea it had consequences.

Barnes tells Hamid why going over the pole is a really bad idea. That Azu's suggestion is carrying Hamid has troubling symbolism.

Zolf actually comes more or less to Hamid's defense by pointing out that all their options are bad options, so having a go at Hamid's idea in particular is unwarranted.

I'm not going to bother listing out options. They will pick one or won't need to pick one. If we have been a very good fandom Alex may reward us with Earhart coming back as their preferred transport.

There we go, Hamid suggests her, Zolf seizes on the idea compliments Hamid on it, and immediately takes it to Wilde. Thank God he isn't so far down he can't do that. If he isn't compulsively shooting down any hope (especially from Hamid) then he really is on the upswing from the low brought on by quarantine stress.

Lydia isn't happy that there isn't going to be an American chapter. Then again we wrote off Svalbard, so don't give up!

Its the Northwest Passage and its so weird realizing that not everyone has it as a cultural reference. Wonder if it's an Oregon thing or a US thing.

Yes it would have been cool, but I think Alex is not going to let us have cool new story arcs when we haven't played with the ones we have at home.

Einstein and Earhart are our two best transport options. I am a happy fan. Especially if Zolf has to use his family and Earhart’s reaching out to him near the end of the journey to appeal to her. I mean we did get more on Zolf's relationship with his family than I expected after Paris, so I'm not going to sulk if they don't pursue this, but it would be nice.

Conflicted as a fan, its hard to remember that this taking months extra is a bad thing when the end of the series is feeling too close for comfort.

Zolf, look at you leveraging your experience with moving even when things feel hopeless!

Cel I love you, kraken as submarine is brilliant. Air kraken is suggested by Carter.

Hamid plays with the ideas while Alex goes "why?". Because you are going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that if you want Hamid to see it as a no win situation rather than proof he needs to redouble on cheerful creativity. Feeling like he had no options led to the worst parts of Hamid's life, the things he is truly ashamed of; having few losses outside of those, he is going to make Kirk's Kobayashi Maru hang ups look amateur.

Zolf is heading to the beach.

Cel is checking on their village.

Hamid wants to contact Einstein himself, Zolf says he should talk to Wilde about that. Hamid wants Zolf with him for that meeting. Zolf either doesn't want to be a safety blanket, wants Hamid to get used to dealing with Wilde directly, or completely missed Hamid offering a chance to work together because he is incapable of seeing Wilde as an opponent. He does say some nice things about being a team.

Hamid tells Cel to say hi to Jasper for them. He is good at the people side of leadership. Remembering names and relationships, knowing how to show he cares because it's important to Cel without overstepping. If Zolf can learn to let go of the rank stuff, they could be an unbeatable team of co leaders.

Zolf nods at Azu. Azu smiles proudly back. Alex jokes about not liking giving them time to heal because they coordinate.

Hamid offers hugs to both Cel and Zolf. Because this entire character is a "fuck you" to toxic masculinity and he is not afraid to openly show affection to his friends.

Cel gives him a great hug.

Zolf hesitates but gives him a pat on the shoulder. Hamid's has high enough charisma to make that not awkward. Good kid, accepting that Zolf is reaching out as far as he can.

Hamid talks to Skraak. Hamid is worried about taking the kids. Maybe Skraak can convince them to stay & help Jasper with science. Because RQG loves us and wants us to be happy, they are considering a fantasy some of us harbored since "science" as a serious possibility. Could solve the issue with Alex not wanting the kids to take up too much screen time too. Skraak is the perfect character for Hamid to have as his second. He believes in Hamid, and can be confided in, but isn't going to take an ounce of self pity or bullshit.

Alex that village better be okay. Smoke? Controlled burn. Ben lightens the mood. The tank is still guarding the village. The barricade is up but they are guarding about as well as a village of level 0(1?) characters can be expected to.

They are having a party and there is a bon fire. Because Alex knows we wouldn't have trusted him if there wasn't a little scare with the smoke. !puns

The village is visibly healing since the weather is fixed. They thank Cel but know better than to ask.

Jasper! Jasper is looking good. He stepped in as a leader of the village. Cel and I could burst with pride. Jasper thinks Cel is coming to stay, Cel tries to explain they are going to help save the other villages around the world and mentions that Jasper would like the Kobolds.

!puns

* One day I need to hunt down the right corner of SF because there has got to be a decent amount of trans humanist fiction for trans humans out there somewhere.

**Not sure if I should feel bad for hoping this gives him a safe target for his destructive tendencies. Ideally Zolf would get past that point without indulging his dark side lest he reinforce bad coping mechanisms. Ideally Zolf would have weekly therapy without the fate of the world on his shoulders too. Its the more personal version of looking forward to a fight after Hamid's been stressed because he seems to find cooking baddies cathartic.

[hgb94]

I’ve got a lot of emotions about Zolf, clearly. This got...a little long. So, here are all the things I love about Zolf, and all the things about him that break my heart. Really, all the things I love about him end up breaking my heart. I’m definitely not projecting at all in here. This is 100% well thought out. 

Zolf is The Protector. It’s one of the first and most obvious of his characteristics that I noticed. He constantly tries to protect the lives of people around him, even if he barely knows them, even if he doesn’t particularly like them. It was heartwarming to see how deeply he cared for people he’d known such a short time. He knew Sasha for about 10 seconds before stepping in between her and Barret’s men. “Didn’t seem very fair odds.” He’d known Hamid for two or three days before offering to wear Barret’s ring for him. “Mr Barret, as their employer, you are dealing with me.” He didn’t even like Wilde, but he categorically refused to hand him over to Gourmand’s men in exchange for his own (and the group’s) safety. He grew to despise Bertie, but still did his best to keep him safe. And when he finally becomes enraged by Bertie and is ready to kill him, his central reason is: “I have had it with his constant endangering of the people that I like and love!” The only thing that gets him to stand down is Sasha reminding him that Bertie’s death would upset Hamid. He’s generally the one advocating for the more sensible course of action. He gets angry with Hamid for engaging in reckless heroics and yells at him for a solid 5 minutes before admitting that he feels responsible for him and he doesn’t want him to die. Sasha wants to ride the gyrocopters, and he’s citing a newspaper article about recent crashes. It was endearing and heartwarming, but by the time he left in Prague, it was heartbreaking, for three reasons.

He blames himself when the people he cares for get hurt, and when he can’t protect them, he feels useless. After the catacombs and Mr. Ceiling, he can’t walk, he can’t fight, and he doesn’t even have a weapon. Everything he did to protect them during that arc, at significant risk to himself, wasn’t enough. “I’ve been so useless.” Sasha died. Hamid got hurt. He had to sit at the top of the stairs, unable to do anything, listening to Hamid scream as he was burned by the fire elemental.  One of the only things he really has left to protect them after the catacombs is his ability to heal, which is probably why it hurts so much when Hamid refuses his healing, choosing to use a potion instead. (To my knowledge, Hamid has never willingly accepted healing from Zolf since learning that Zolf’s healing powers were connected to the whole Poseidon drowning sacrifice thing.) There in the Arc, without his legs, without a weapon or armor, healing is the only thing he feels like he can offer. And Hamid won’t let him. The world collapsed and not only can he not fix it, he blames himself for it. “I don’t think I’m powerful, I think I’m powerless! I can’t do anything about this, I can’t fix the mistakes that I’ve made. I can’t walk, I can’t get out and heal people because I need help to get down the stairs.”

He’ll do anything to protect others, but he hates asking for help himself. Honestly, although I didn’t realize it until later, this starts becoming evident at Dover. The only thing Zolf can do during his imprisonment and court-martial is provide Hamid with information to formulate a defense. He has to sit and wait and rely on his new friends to get him out of it. He was powerless. And afterward, Hamid had to push him to accept a temporary loan of 500 gold to pay off his debt to the navy. Later, when Mme. Rose asks them about their most embarrassing memory, Zolf’s is being court-martialed. When he’s lectured at the Temple of Poseidon and sent to cross the channel on a tiny boat in a terrible storm, he doesn’t ask anyone to come with him. He makes it perfectly clear how dangerous this will be, assures them that he’s the only one who needs to do this and won’t blame anyone for taking the train instead, and then waits for them to choose. In the catacombs, with his ruined leg, he focuses on Hamid. He buries the fact that he’s now effectively legless. Box that up and deal with it later, because Hamid and Sasha need him to stay calm. And on the way out of the Arc, it doesn’t matter how much he’s done for the group, he feels the need to apologize to Sasha for her having to carry him around when he’s legless. “You investigate, I’ll watch up here. Don’t want to be a burden.” When she stretches out her back at the hotel after putting him down, he apologizes again, like it’s his fault. 

The only life Zolf willingly risks is his own. When Sasha goes overboard crossing the channel, he only pauses long enough to try and make sure Hamid is safe before throwing himself after her, while offering Poseidon his life for hers. As Mr. Ceiling forms a massive robot to attack the group, he’s in a wheelchair, legless, without armor or weapons, and he hides the three of them from its sight and puts himself between it and them. When Earhart puts a gun to Sasha’s head, he shakes off his airsickness and draws her attention. “If you expect me to fear death, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” I don’t think that was false bravado. It’s true. He doesn’t fear his death. He’s never been afraid for himself. He fears the deaths of people he loves. I would argue that is his greatest fear. 

I also love Zolf’s passion for romance novels. It’s freaking adorable at first. He’s locked in a jail cell and falls in love with a series of romance novels. “Jennifer, no!” “Richard is not the right one for you!” From the description, they’re simple, melodramatic, and predictable, and I’ve definitely read a few books of that exact genre. He loves them and they’re a wonderful escape for him. When he reacts so violently to Bertie endangering the author, Harrison Campbell, it seems a little excessive at first. And ultimately perhaps that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, the last in a long string of incidents that caused him to snap. But I get it. I have that thing. The thing that you go to on the bad days. When your mind won’t stop spinning out of control with worst-case scenarios.When you have to get out of your own head for a few hours. When you’re numb and struggling to feel anything at all. It becomes a lifeline that you hold onto when you’re drowning, and to have someone tell you that it’s trash, to mock it, to try and destroy your connection to it…I’d have tried to toss Bertie overboard too. Okay, so maybe I am projecting a little.  Zolf’s self-confidence and faith. At the start, Zolf projects a lot of confidence. He’s the leader, he guides the group, makes decisions, and he seems to know who he is, Zolf Smith, Cleric of Poseidon. He believes that he knows what his god wants, and he’s devoted to those beliefs. His confidence balances his caution and allows him to lead the group through dangerous situations while keeping a clear head. After visiting the Temple of Poseidon, he does his best to alter course to his new perception of Poseidon’s desires, but there’s a little crack, a hairline fracture in his understanding of his god and himself. And then Mr Ceiling takes a chisel and hammer to the cracks and shatters Zolf’s faith. “I saw a robot casually decide, ‘maybe I should be a god’, and do you know what, I think it could have done it, because, our gods, right, they’re like us. They’re as stupid and as fallible as us, and they screw up. If something can casually decide, ‘maybe I’ll be a god’, and I have no way of saying that it couldn’t become a god, what’s Poseidon?” He’s faced with the fallout of their choices in Paris, and he doesn’t know if they did the right thing. The economy of Paris has collapsed, chaos, riots, violence, how many people have died? Is this really better? “I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time, I can’t see into the future, but usually my decisions don’t affect millions of people!” And after his dreams from Poseidon, Zolf is filled with more questions than answers. “I don’t know why he’s…stupid dreams and symbolism and rubbish like that and not anything...just…I just want to have a conversation.” Poseidon gives him new legs, but legs aren’t answers. “I just don’t feel like I deserve them. I don’t know why I have them. I don’t know why he’s given them to me. I just don’t know.” They make their way out of Paris and see a Meritocrat destroy Eiffel’s Folly to control the rioting. He learns that his family were part of the Harlequins. Has he been working for the wrong people? And then he nearly kills Bertie and he kills any faith he had left in his ability to lead this group without putting them in danger.

In the end, all of this leads to Prague. He’s lost his faith, he’s doubting his god, he’s doubting the Meritocrats, he’s doubting his choices. “I am the weak link.” “You might believe in me, I don’t anymore.” He’s afraid he’ll crack, make choices that put them at risk, and if he can’t trust himself to protect them, why is he still here?  He has to leave. Partly to sort himself out, to deal with his own issues, but also for them. He can’t stay in command when he can’t trust his own choices. “I don’t trust myself, and I don’t trust myself around you.” If someone gets killed, that’s on him. “I know that if something happens again and I crack…I might not be able to do anything to save you.” At the end of the day, he’s still trying to protect them. He just believes that the best protection he can offer is his absence.

And...a little Sasha heartbreak as frosting on this pain cake. Zolf promised to help with her degenerative magical disease. He promised that he wouldn’t let her die. As long as she was with him, he’d be able to slow it down. They’d go do research and look into it and find someone else well-versed in magic and diseases who could cure her. He promised. And then he left. And sure, she could have done it on her own. She could have pushed “cure my disease so I don’t die” to the top of their priority list. She could have told Hamid what was happening, immediately sought out the Aphrodite lot as the cleric of Artemis suggested. She could have done that alone. But this is Sasha we’re talking about, and the only person Sasha ever trusted enough to willingly ask for help was Zolf. And she sits there, listening to him in Prague, listening to all the reasons that he feels he needs to leave. She never brings up her sickness as a reason for him to stay, never even hints at it. She listens to everything he says, and she tells him he should be free to leave. “If you’re choosing to go, then...you should have the choice. That should be allowed.”

[asleeg]

no man is rich enough to buy back his past (1/2)

[read on ao3]

[a b-day fic for @roswyrm ]

It wasn't until he saw Zolf again, the sobs already rising up in the back of his throat, that Hamid understood how much he had missed his best friend.

Because that was what Zolf was, at the end of all things. Bertie never had been, had proven that over and over again, and Sasha was brilliant and loyal, but Zolf had been… special. Zolf had been the one he cared about so intensely it inspired him to scream and cry and do all the things his family had tried to train out of him. It was Zolf that had held him the darkness, Zolf who had saved him from himself, Zolf who had inspired him to lead. Zolf was his best friend.

And Hamid was a mass of tears shaped something like a halfling.

Grizzop and Azu both looked worried-- Well, Azu looked worried. Grizzop looked like he thought Hamid had finally lost it. Hamid couldn't blame them. He didn't know what Sasha had told them, but he could never bring himself to talk about Zolf with them. It felt wrong, somehow. The early days, when they were still working on the name, was something so precious to him, and words couldn't explain it. Especially not to the people who had replaced Zolf and Bertie, thereby changing the entire dynamic.

Sasha, though, knew Hamid at his absolute worst, and the tears didn't phase her at all. After she greeted Zolf (Lowkey as always, like Zolf was catching up with them after lagging behind to catch up on some paperwork. Why did that thought rip a sob out of Hamid's throat?), she faded to the back of their group, looking between Zolf and Hamid with a wide, expectant grin. She had planned this surprise, Hamid realised, but was too distracted to be offended.

Zolf had always been the one to carry the full brunt of Hamid's emotional outlash, but he'd never smiled like that about it. His smile was soft, almost fond, and Hamid could feel his organs quaking at the way the emotion echoed in Zolf's clear, blue eyes.

"Well," Zolf said, and, oh god. Hamid had forgotten how deep and lovely Zolf's voice was, oh god, he was sobbing even harder now. He was so happy. "I guess some things never change."

"Shut up," Hamid said. And then, quickly, "No, wait, I didn't.... Don't leave."

Zolf's brow furrowed, but his smile didn't fade-- Just turned a bit sad at the edges, the happiness wilting. Hamid felt the loneliness in his chest start building again. "I'm not going anywhere, Hamid."

If anything, Hamid cried harder.

"Sorry," Grizzop said, in his usual 'I'm not trying to be incredibly rude, but I unfortunately will be' voice. "Who are you?"

"It's Zolf," Hamid sobbed. "It's.... Zolf."

Azu looked confused. "What is a Zolf?"

"I'm a Zolf. Zolf Smith, in fact. Founder of..." Zolf paused. "Sorry, what was it you were calling it now? Right, sorry. LOLOMG."

"Ah, right," Grizzop said. "The cleric they left in Prague."

Hamid wailed.

"Does Hamid not like Zolf?" Azu 'whispered' to Sasha, and Hamid is so used to her particular brand of obtuse that it almost doesn't register. It's not until he sees the worry flit into Zolf's eyes that he sucks in a breath so sharp that it burns all the way down to his toes. Hamid can't let Zolf think that he doesn't want this, can't let Zolf think that he belongs anywhere other than here.

Sasha beats him to it, though, with a snort. "Hamid likes Zolf plenty. He's just a prat about it, sometimes."

The tears almost stop when Hamid draws himself up into full height, prepared to be affronted, but Zolf ruins all composure by coming to his rescue. "Stop it, Sasha. You know how Hamid can get when he's hungry; A couple dire lobsters and he'll be right as rain."

"I'm right here," Hamid wibbles, but it doesn't come out as the protest he intends it. It's more a statement: I'm right here, Zolf. I'm right here, pay attention to me. Then again, he's not sure if he wants Zolf to notice the teary, snotty mess he must be at the moment.

"Wow," Grizzop says. "I can't believe you used to be weirder than you are now."

"Grizzop," Azu scolds, but before she can continue (and embarrass Hamid further by discussing every schmoopy, ridiculous emotion written across his face), Hamid interrupts.

"No, you're all right," Hamid said. He took a deep breath, tries not to notice that the fondness is creeping back into the edges of Zolf's smile. "We should all get dinner. Zolf, you've... It would mean a lot to us, if you would meet the new team."

"I'd love to."

The easy agreement almost threw Hamid off, and certainly made him suspicious. Nothing with Zolf had ever been easy, from beginning to end. His sudden agreeableness was something Hamid hadn't expected or even wanted. Or, maybe, Zolf's growth didn't dissolve in the face of an old friend like Hamid's tended to.

"Perfect," Hamid said. He, and the rest of the group, were pretending that fresh tears weren't gathering in the corner of his eyes. "I'll go freshen up, and meet you all in the dining room. Yes?"

The team agrees easily enough, even if Sasha hesitates, but Zolf lingers for a moment. The doubt is clear in his eyes. After all, Hamid has never needed time or a bathroom to get himself stage ready.

"I just... need a moment," Hamid said, and Zolf nodded.

"'Course," he said, "it's a lot. You've been through a lot."

"Well," Hamid joked, "You seem to be handling it fine."

Zolf laughed, a low, rusty sound. It was different, now, like a record covered in dust. When was the last time Hamid had heard Zolf laugh? Before Prague, obviously, but... Before Paris? Before Dover? He couldn't remember.

"Do I? I don't feel fine."

Hamid winced. "Zolf," he said, softly. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

The look that crosses Zolf's face must be a look that all religious figures learn, at one point in their lives. It's a mix of "oh, look at this stupid beast, how I pity it," mixed with, "look at this abhorrent creature, how it disgusts me." Hamid had seen it in the eyes of many a priestess in his childhood, and Grizzop and Azu had both conquered halves of it. Zolf was the only one who had managed, so far, to also make it seem fond, as if Hamid's slight was somehow endearing. It always unsettled him, threw him off whatever self-destructive spiral he'd been ready to fling himself into.

Honestly, Hamid wishes he'd known Zolf at University.

"Of course I'm staying," Zolf says. He starts off after Sasha and the rest, and Hamid still isn't used to the fluidity of Zolf motions now that he's got two (magic) legs again. It's unfair, how much the new stability in his shoulders shows off how broad and strong they are. The last thing Hamid needs is even more reasons to miss him when he's gone. "I need to make sure the new recruits are taking care of you better than the last two idiots, don't I?"

And then he just... leaves, like that sentence couldn't be broken down into a thousand meanings, a million messages that Hamid could spend the next six hours dissecting. It's enough to paralyze Hamid, leaving him stuck stock-still in the hotel lobby until a well-meaning conceirge comes and pokes him along. Hamid trudges to the bathroom, replaying the conversation over to himself. It feels more like a daydream than a memory, like one of those silly fantasies he used to have, all prince charming and being swept off his feet. Although, it's less about the adventures than it used to be.

Once upon a time, Hamid wanted princes and princesses. He wanted grand adventures and crowns, to achieve great deeds that could be shown as brazenly as the medals on his chest. Reality worked that out of him quickly enough. After everything in London, Hamid had learned that no one was coming to save him. Paris taught him that grand adventures and great deeds were sometimes things you didn't want to show. Sometimes they were things you wanted to forget about long enough to sleep. But it was okay: Hamid had picked up new dreams. Dreams of him and Zolf, of Sasha and Bertie, all four of them a happy little family in the face of certain death. It had been a dream born from an almost.

Prague took that dream from him, too.

Hamid relished in the sting of cold water against his face, dripping down his neck. It made the world feel a little more real, a little less like the memory of those old daydreams. Seeing Zolf had led him back to that intense longing for a home-- But, no, that had been the fourth lesson, the one that Cairo taught him. Hamid didn't know how to be the new him around someone who still had his hands around the tenderest parts of Hamid's heart.

When he opened his eyes, they were molten and draconic, the tips of teeth peeking out over his lips.

They would have to figure it out together.

[asleeg]

[incomplete fic] ‘til thou wert weary of idolatry

[i’ll never finish this so i’m throwing it at you. have fun. read here on ao3 if you prefer.] 

The water was cold.

It was a sign of just how far Zolf had fell that it registered as an annoyance at all. A sailor and a pirate and now an adventurer, he had faced the worst of what the sea had to offer him and survived. He was a cleric of Poseidon, for the love of Triton's barnacle'd nips, and he'd been through the many trials set before him. Two weeks ago he'd nearly drowned crossing the channel, and cold had been the last thing on his mind.

Then again, he'd also had a leg two weeks ago. It had been just the one, but that had counted for more than he'd given it credit for.

Now he was slowly starting to chill in tepid water in the most prestigious hotel in all of Paris, legless, aimless, and without a idea of how his life had gotten to this point. There had never been an agreement to all of this nonsense. Zolf had planned on an auspicious start to the London Rangers (they were still working on the name) as mercenary agents of the Meritocrats, yes, but he had rather thought it would be more of a whirlwind trip around the world, ferreting out clues and fighting grand wizards. Ancient catacombs were supposed to house undead creatures and similarly ancient secrets, not amoral machines carefully managing the whole world.

Saving the world hadn't exactly been in the contract, but they had done it anyway, because Zolf had been an idiot and his friends-- Hamid and Sasha, anyway --were so, so good.

The ache in his bones was a punishment for his sins, Zolf had decided, but it didn't make getting out of the tub any easier.

He'd tried to, five minutes ago, but the flesh around his ports was too sensitive to get a lot of leverage against the bottom of the tub, and the sorrow had melded with the cold to make his bones rattle as he tried to lift himself out. So he'd lowered himself back into the water and told himself to bide his time until he got up the strength to try again.

Twenty staff members below him at his beck and call, two friends and an employee just a room away, and Zolf couldn't get out of the fucking tub. He wasn't calling for help. He wasn't.

Help called for him.

"Zolf?"

The soft, nervous way Hamid said his name had always sent a shiver of regret down Zolf's spine, but now in the supposed silence of the bath, it jolted Zolf guiltily out of his own sorrows and into reality. He turned quickly towards the door, water sloshing around his waist. The door was ajar, preserving most of his dignity, but one brown eye did peek through the crack.

"Hamid," he said, voice cracking in embarrassment. "What are you--"

"Sorry. Sorry!" The crack shrunk as if reacting to Hamid's shame. "I didn't think-- I mean, you were in there a really long time, Zolf, and I honestly thought maybe you were just doing a Poseidon thing and still had clothes on."

"Yes, well... Obviously, I don't."

"Em, right."

Even the quiet sounded heavy on the tile as they sat there for a moment, just Zolf and the big brown eye. Uncomfortable silences weren't something the Rangers were exactly prone to. Uncomfortable ramblings, yes, especially from Hamid and Sasha, but silence wasn't exactly their specialty. Apart from their babblers, they also had to deal with one very shouty priest and a pretentious knight, so any awkwardness on their part was as loud as their comfortability was. Which was to say: Extremely.

"Is there something you wanted, Hamid?" And maybe they had all spent too much time together, because Zolf could hear his voice getting higher and higher with stress and embarrassment, something he was sure he hadn't done before meeting Hamid al-Tahan, the King of Squeaky Anxiety.

"Right, sorry, I just-- I wanted to see if you were alright. Do you need anything?"

Zolf tried not to let the question frustrate him. He knew Hamid meant well; There wasn't a malicious bone in the halfling's body. But while Sasha and Bertie had merely ignored Zolf's new handicap completely, Hamid had been treating Zolf with kid gloves, those wide eyes following him around the hotel room like a worried mother's. The reassurances and frantic questions had been nonstop, and Zolf knew it came from a good place. He knew it did, no matter how many disappointed looks Sasha gave him, alright? Hamid was a good man, and he wanted to take care of his team. Intellectually, Zolf knew there was nothing wrong with that.

The problem was that there was nothing intellectual about pride. Zolf was a cleric of Poseidon, an ex-naval officer and pirate, and the leader of one of the most important mercenary bands in the world. He was, technically, still Hamid's (and Sasha's, and Bertie's) boss. He'd lived through trials both spiritual and literal, survived swarms of botanical nightmares, and had handled losing the first leg just fine. Hades below, he had done most of that without the leg. There was an intense shame in the idea that now he needed Hamid's constant attention now that he'd lost the second. What was he supposed to say, 'yes, Hamid, I've just discovered I can't get out of the bath without assistance, could you please come help me and also deal with the awkward humiliation of seeing my wrecked naked form?'

By Zeus and all his whores, Zolf would rather ask Bertie for help than see pity in Hamid's eyes again.

"Please tell me you haven't drowned yourself in there. I honestly don't know what I'd tell the staff."

Zolf's head dropped back as a dry, shaky laugh escaped him. Hamid unfiltered was more and more of a treat every day. "Gods. Don't ever change, Hamid."

"Don't make fun of me," Hamid said, and Zolf could hear the pout in the tenor of Hamid' s voice. Before Zolf could clear his affront, though, Hamid continued: "I'm only worried about you, Zolf."

"Yes. Yes, I know, but I don't need to be worried over," Zolf groused. "I was doing just fine before. And don't--" Zolf closed his eyes, something that tasted like weakness overpowering his words. "Don't say you do need to, actually, because I will find those prosthetics and beat you with them."

Hamid's voice burned back, caustic. "Stop being ridiculous, Zolf. I'm worried about you because I care about you. Sasha is worried because she cares about you! Bertie--" A pause. "Well, Bertie cares about himself, mostly. But the point is, the only one worried about your bloody leg is you!"

Suddenly, Zolf was colder than the water around him. "Oh, so that's how you 'care' about someone, is it?"

"Oh, you know that's not what I--" But Hamid cut himself off, and when his voice returned, all the fire was gone. "I'm coming in, this is ridiculous."

"What? No, Hamid, don't--"

Hamid was a rumpled mess the likes Zolf had never truly thought Hamid had the capability to be. He'd seen the halfling covered in several "mystery" fluids, half-drowned, and, basically, utterly wrecked, but Hamid had never looked quite as strung out as he did now. There was a sickly ashen cast to his skin, like someone had covered his deep complexion in thin powder. His eyeliner had smeared itself across his face and sleeves-- It was the clothes that disturbed Zolf the most; It looked like Hamid hadn't changed in days.

That thought was so absurd that guilt started to settle in Zolf's chest.

Which was not on, honestly. Zolf didn't owe Hamid anything, and if he came in looking for an apology, Zolf was going to fry his fucking--

"I'm sorry," Hamid said softly.

Oh.

"Hamid…"

"No, really, Zolf. It came out wrong, and I shouldn't have even gone there. I know that." Hamid's huge brown eyes stared down at him, wet with tears. Zolf squirmed. " I'm really sorry."

Zolf's indignation began to crumble. "No, you were right."

"Don't. Don't." Anger flashed in Hamid's eyes, but somehow he only looked wounded, as if Zolf's reassurance had torn him apart somehow. "You're allowed to be upset, Zolf. I won't ask you not to be upset with me, or Poseidon, or the world. You're allowed to be absolutely furious. It was awful, what happened to you and Sasha, truly awful. And the last thing I ever want to do is make you think you're overreacting, or that you can't… talk to me."

Zolf's throat clicked as he swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. "Thank you?"

"I was just trying to let you know that I… I mean, Sasha and I, really-- We care about you."

Zolf offered a crooked smile, trying not to collapse immediately into tears like some kind of… Hamid.

"Even if I'm a legless lump?"

Even though there were still tears in his eyes, Hamid's smile was the most genuine Zolf had seen in days. Weeks, maybe. "You'd still be the legless lump that saved us. You took us in, even though Sasha had a bounty on her head, even though I was a useless public school magician. And then, Zolf, you gave us a purpose. Made us-- Made me something worthwhile."

Tears and laughter were starting to mix at the back of Zolf's throat; If he laughed, he would start blubbering like a baby. He was stuck. Couldn't make a joke, couldn't say anything to break the tension.

They just stared at each other, nervous, for a moment: Zolf, trying desperately to send all his gratitude through telepathy, and Hamid, pretending not to expect any of it.